


still feel

by crazy_buckets (Unhuman_feeling)



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Amputation, Dark, Dib's lost an arm, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Manipulation, Membrane is an asshole, Slow Burn, Very very dark, ZaDr, anyway, parental manipulation, sometimes i get sad and my brain vomits out stuff like this??, zim is good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25127947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unhuman_feeling/pseuds/crazy_buckets
Summary: Zimmighthave accidentally sliced Dib's arm off with Membrane Lab's new laser knife prototype, but that's okay! Human arms grow back, right?Maybe not.In other news, Professor Membrane may have just found new, slightly unethical, way to get Dib to study harder.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 103





	1. They Thought You Were Crazy, but Now They Know It

It wasn’t real.

There was no possible way that this could have actually happened. It was entirely inconceivable. Sure, Dib had spent the past 5 years of his life fighting that alien, but there was no way that one of their fights had gone  _ this  _ far. Zim never got close enough to actually lay a finger on him, and Dib doubted that he even wanted to. They just played an endless game of cat and mouse, with Dib doing his civil duty and keeping Zim out of enough trouble that he didn’t destroy the Earth.

And yet here he was.

His father wasn’t even here - of  _ course  _ his father wasn’t here. Dib gritted his teeth, tuning out what the doctor was telling him. It couldn’t be true. There was no way that Zim had scuffed him up  _ that  _ badly. This had to be some horrible fever dream, and tomorrow morning he’d wake up in bed, and go to skool, and continue all the surface-level fights that kept him entertained.

“Dib?” The doctor asked. She was younger, in her 30’s, with a soft face and motherly concern written all over it. “Do you understand what’s happened?

“I lost my arm.” He stated, mind numb to his own words.

“That’s right.” She nodded. She noted that the boy hadn’t glanced at his shoulder yet, or at the bandages, instead keeping his gaze fixated on the ceiling above his hospital bed. But then again, he’d just woken up from a very serious surgery. He could process this all in his own time. “I’ve let your father know that you’re up, and I think your sister is in the waiting room. Would you like to see her?”

See Gaz? Like this? See  _ anyone  _ like this? Dib clenched his eyes shut, and shook his head. “Where are my glasses?”

“Just on the nightstand. To your right.” She offered, making some notes in his file. “This is a big change, Dib. I know that it’s going to be difficult, especially at your age. But you’re in good hands here, and the team in charge of your rehabilitation worked with your father when he lost his arms. We’re all experienced and we’re going to do our best to make sure that you’re well looked after.”

Dib blinked, grabbing his glasses and sitting them on his nose. The world came into focus, and he exhaled slowly, becoming more aware of the tubes in his stomach and nose. “Did they catch him?”

“Catch who?” The doctor asked.

“Zim. The one who… did this.” His voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, and he internally swore. He wasn’t going to cry over this. He wasn’t.

“Dib…” She sighed softly. Perhaps this was a conversation that he probably needed to have with the psychiatric team. “You did this.”

Dib sniffled, suppressing a sob that was growing at the back of his throat. “Oh.”

“Once we get you into rehabilitation, we’ve got an amazing outpatient program lined up for you as well-“

“Please leave.”

“What?” She frowned.

“ _ Leave,  _ please.” Dib pleaded. “I just,  _ please _ . Give me a moment.”

“Okay.” She said softly, placing his file back into it’s spot on the wall. “The buzzer is just under your right hand if you need it. The medical team is here for you.”

He didn’t let himself cry until the door was closed.

——

15 is a weird age.

15 is an age where you’re trying to discover your self identity. It’s an age where you start to become your own person outside of the family unit, and it’s an age where you experiment with who you are and your own interests and ideas. 15 is an age where you have enough independence to discover yourself with the safety net of a family home behind you.

At 15, Dib was sitting in the hospital wing of Membrane Labs because he had lost his left arm in a fight with an alien. And everyone thought that he’d done it to himself.

It had been 3 days since Dib had woken up to the horrible body he now found himself in. At first, it had been shock. The fact that he’d actually been  _ maimed  _ by the Irken was actually astounding to him. Then it had been anger. Mostly anger towards Zim, for taking their fight too far, but now it was more so anger at his father for not having visited his son in the entire 3 days that he’d been here. 

Well, that was a lie. One of the doctors had said he’d visited at 1:34 in the morning and left at 1:37, while Dib was sleeping, as that was all his schedule had allowed for. Dib hadn’t counted that, because he’d literally been here  _ three  _ minutes, and hadn’t even bothered to leave a note. All he’d brought was a chemistry textbook for a little bit of ‘light reading’ while he was bed bound.

If Dib had two hands still, he would absolutely rip his father open next time he stepped foot in the room.

Gaz visited, at least. She brought him flowers, and would sit beside him on the visiting chair to watch TV whenever she wasn’t at skool. She wasn’t the most talkative, but Dib appreciated that. How could he even put forward these emotions in words to her? He made an effort not to think about what life was going to be like for him once he was outside of this room. He couldn’t go back to  _ skool  _ like this, and he doubted there were very many paranormal investigators with one arm. What about his trench coat? His famous article of clothing… it would look stupid with one sleeve empty.

“Has Dad visited yet?” Gaz asked quietly when the show they were watching snapped to commercial break.

“Not while I was awake.” Dib responded, staring at his lap. “I don’t think he wants to.”

“Hmm.” She frowned. “I hear he’s working on building you a prosthetic, though. Apparently his are pretty good, and the one he’s building for you is even better.”

Dib felt ill at the thought of anything on the stump of where his left arm once was. “I…”

“He’ll probably tell you about it, eventually.” She shrugged, digging through her backpack for her Game Slave. “Vampire Piggies 4 or Supernatural Zombie Dance Dance Revolution?”

“Vampire Piggies.” Dib mumbled.

“Classic, I like it man.” She offered him a small smile, putting the game cartridge in the back and booting it up. “Anyway. Um. I just wanted to say that. I believe you.”

“What?”

“There’s a lot of talk about how it happened. Because, they found you in the basement with Dad’s lazer knife, and they thought that you did it yourself because only your fingerprints were on the handle. But Zim wears gloves, and I  _ know  _ that you didn’t cut off your own arm.”

“Yeah.” Dib responded half-heartedly. “They all think I’m crazy.”

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “They’ve thought you’re crazy  _ forever _ . You’re not, Dib. Don’t let this slow you down. Show them they’re wrong.”

“Huh.” Although him and Gaz had gotten closer as they’d grown older, niceties from his younger sister were still a rarity, and he couldn’t hide his smile. “Thanks.”

——-

It was a week later that a little green boy with a skin condition and his ‘emotional support taco-eating dog’ came to the medical wing of Membrane labs.

It wasn’t a trip filled with malice, although Zim would say otherwise if you ever asked him. He’d brought a bunch of flowers, after the computer told him that it was an acceptable present for someone who had been through a traumatic injury, he’d dug through the gardens of his neighbour and marched into the ward with an arrangement of roses.

“Oh, here to visit Dib?” The lady at the reception desk had repulsive pink cheeks and a disgustingly happy demeanor. “He’d love to see someone from school! We’ve been really worried about him. Come, this way! I’ll show you to his room.”

“Victory for Zim!” Zim smiled, following her down the hall.

It wasn’t a very big ward. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t an actual hospital. It was the wing of the labs that Membrane had ordered to be built after a few of his test children fell unwell due to side effects of his experiments. He’d used it himself, many years before when he had lost his own arms. At least now there was first-class healthcare within the building, and Dib mostly had the ward and the medical staff to himself.

The nurse knocked a few times on the door, before smiling and opening it. “Dib! Your friend has come to visit you, isn’t that wonderful?”

Dib didn’t respond, his eyes glued to the small television in the corner of the room. Zim couldn’t help but notice how awful he looked. Normally, his arch-rival was standing ready to pounce, either there to try and stop one of Zim’s schemes, or he had one of his own to prove the boy wasn’t from this earth. But here, his eyes were dark, his body was still, and his face lacked all interest and emotion.  _ Misery _ , was the filthy human emotion he seemed to be experiencing.

“Dib-Thing?” Zim asked uncertainly, approaching the boy and holding the roses out at him. “I have come to… erm…”

Dib turned to face him, and his face changed. No longer was he still and apathetic, his face was written with a disgusting mix of anger and confusion. “What are  _ you  _ doing here?”

“He came to see you!” The nurse smiled. “I’ll leave you boys to have some private time! I’m only a buzz away!”

“No, wait! This is the alien that-” He sighed as the door closed behind her, and he faced back to Zim. “Come to finish the job, huh?”

“Finish?” Zim tilted his head in confusion. “You disappeared from Skool and I needed to erm…”

“Check on me?” Dib almost laughed. “What? You chop my arm off and then you  _ miss _ me?”

Cut his arm off? Zim frowned, before glancing down and- oh. It was true then, the rumours. Dib had in fact lost his left arm. Zim lightly poked at the stump with his gloved hand. “How long will it take to grow back?”

“Grow  _ back _ ?” This time, Dib did laugh, although it was dripping with malice. “Zim, it’s  _ never  _ going back. You cut my fucking  _ arm  _ off and I’m going to be a cripple  _ forever. _ ”

“O-Oh…” The alien was quite taken aback by this, and Dib took it as an opportunity to dig.

“What, do  _ your  _ limbs grow back? I guess it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’m ever going to be able to stop you again. You’ve  _ won  _ Zim, congratulations!”

“Oh, come on, Dib-Stink.” Zim rolled his eyes. “I have no doubt you’ll want to continue trying to diffuse my GENIUS evil plans. You’ve been doing so for the last… eh… 4 filthy human years! You’ll never stop! It’s what makes you who you are!”

“Well, you fucking  _ took  _ it from me.” He growled, turning to face the TV again. “And don’t  _ touch  _ me, alien. You’re cold and disgusting.”

Zim pulled his arm away hesitantly. “Dib-Stink… I didn’t…”

“I don’t  _ care _ what you have to say, Zim.” Dib refused to look at him. “Just get out. Go take over the world. I don’t  _ care  _ anymore. Get  _ out,  _ or I’m gonna call the nurse and have you kicked out.”

Gir placed a tin of tuna on the boy’s nightstand as a peace offering, before Zim tugged on the leash, and dragged him out of the hospital room. Dib let out a deep sigh, ignoring the growing storm of emotions inside him, and instead focusing on the daytime TV shows playing quietly in the corner.

\------

It came time to go home.

One of the nurses who had actually managed to have a conversation or two with Dib had offered to drive him, along with Gaz, but considering that Membrane Labs and his front door were about 200 metres apart, he really didn’t need a lift. Gaz brought him in his clothes, and after a final approval by the doctor, were given permission to leave.

Dib wasn’t surprised that his father wasn’t there for the occasion. He still hadn’t seen the man in person since the incident. He’d found a few emails, one written by his assistant wishing him a speedy recovery, and two with photos of various prosthesis prototypes.

Dib had deleted them.

It felt weird, to walk. He hadn’t been bed bound, but other than a two step walk to the bathroom and back, he hadn’t really had any reason to be on his feet. Actually walking out the front door without his arm was… nauseating. His balance felt completely off, and he ended up with an arm around Gaz for stability as they stumbled across the lawn.

“I-I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, Dib. Don’t freak out about it. I’ve got you.” She assured, putting a hand on his back to further steady him. 

The house looked the same as Gaz pushed her key into the front door. The same Membrane-themed appliances, the same TV and sofa, the same kitchen. Even Foodio, who came rolling towards the front door with a smile on his metal face.

“Sir Dib! Welcome  _ home _ ! I hope you feel the  _ love  _ within the walls. What is  _ love _ ?”

“Hey, Foodio.” Dib mumbled. “Return to base.”

Gaz helped her brother to the sofa while Foodio skittered back into the kitchen and back to it’s charging dock. “Do you want some snacks or a drink or something?”

“No, thanks.” Dib responded quietly. “Thanks, though.”

“It’s okay.” She grabbed herself a soda before sitting next to him. “So, Dad told me that he didn’t want you in physio because once you got the prosthesis sorted, you wouldn’t need to know any of the stuff they teach you, because apparently he didn’t need it. Anyway, I told him that that was bullshit, and I’ve got his credit card, so I’m thinking maybe I could… organise that for you?”

“He didn’t want me in  _ physio _ ?” Dib blinked. “I lost my  _ arm _ !”

“He’s dumb as fuck.” Gaz responded, matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to check with you first.”

“I didn’t even  _ ask  _ him for a prosthesis.” He muttered. “Thanks, Gaz. At least  _ someone  _ cares what I think about my  _ own  _ injury.”

There wasn’t really a lot Gaz could say to help her brother come to terms with this any easier. It was going to be hard on him, and hard on them both. Staring at him, he looked so  _ different  _ now. His sleeve was empty, he leaned on his right side, and the usual endless ‘fight’ in his eyes was replaced by what she assumed to be hopelessness. This wasn’t the brother she knew, but there wasn’t really anything she could say to help bring him back.

“I’m sorry.” Dib mumbled, noticing her quiet gaze down at her lap. “This isn’t your issue.”

“It is. You’re my brother, man. I’ve got your back.” She paused. “Do you want to… watch something, or is it cool if I play video games?”

“Go ahead.” Dib responded, resting his head back. “I need some normal.”

“Of course.”

\----

Going to bed that night was weird.

Foodio had served up some soup for dinner, so Dib didn’t have to worry about using cutlery, and instead just focus on the spoon. It was an appreciated measure, considering he’d tried to open the fridge with a hand that was no longer there about 3 times already. Sure, he put his spoon down to grab a drink, and then lost the spoon in the soup and Gaz had to clean it off for him, but overall, he’d dubbed it a successful meal.

Gaz had offered to watch a movie or reruns of some TV shows he liked, but in the end, Dib just went upstairs to hopefully get some sleep. He’d watched enough TV in the past few weeks, and his eyes needed a rest.

Still, it felt weird to walk upstairs without his left hand dragging on the banister.

Changing into his pyjamas was the next task, and one he was unsure he could face. However, his reluctance to call his sister in to help him with the simple task fueled him, and it was fairly easy to get undressed. He pulled his coat off, laying it over his chair for now instead of trying to get it back on it’s coathanger, then kicked his jeans off and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Pyjamas. Easy to look at, soft to the touch, but proving to be quite the task to get back on.

The shirt was easy at first, putting his left shoulder in and then letting his arm go through the right sleeve, but after several minutes of trying to force the buttons together, he decided he could come back to that. Every time he’d get it close enough, his fingers just wouldn’t do the right thing, and drop it again. 

Pants were harder. Dib first tried holding the pant legs out in front of him, but without the stability of a second grip, he tripped and stumbled over.

“Are you okay?!” Gaz called from downstairs.

“Fine!” He called back, before sighing and glancing at the garment. It might be easier to try another way.

In the end, he had success on the bed, sitting down and looping his feet through the holes that way, and pulling them up from there. Now, just these buttons…

Dib had fought aliens, been in a fight with ghosts, and saved the Earth that one time, but none of that compared to how hard doing up these buttons was. They just kept slipping from his grip every time, and he was starting to grit his teeth in frustration. He must have been sitting there for a good half hour, when there was a soft knock at his door. “Son?”

Dib immediately froze. “D-Dad?”

Membrane pushed the door open, his goggles and coat masking any emotion he may have been expressing. Taking note of the situation, he wandered over and bent down, quickly buttoning Dib’s shirt up before he had a chance to say anything. After that was sorted, he placed the trenchcoat back on it’s coathanger, before heading back for the door.

“Get some sleep, son. School tomorrow. And then therapy.”

“School?! I’ve been home one day! I-I-”

The door closed softly, Membrane already gone. Dib just sighed and flopped back on the bed. He’d never felt so out of control.


	2. Maybe It's An Identity Crisis, Maybe It's Maybelline

Dib ignored his father’s advice for possibly the first time the next day, and decided against going to school for the meantime. Dib was nowhere near ready for something like that, and spent the day at home, practicing things like brushing his teeth and getting dressed.

Thankfully, Gaz had called around and organised for him to see a physio.

The guy was nice enough, and drove out to the house so Dib wouldn’t even have to go anywhere. They practiced stretches, and went over a few new ways to do things that he hadn’t been taught yet. Being able to learn a better way to do the button on his pants made things a  _ lot  _ easier.

Although Dib appreciated the ability to learn these skills (the fact that his father was going to rob him of that opportunity made his blood boil), he didn’t really appreciate the overwhelming optimism that ‘Derek’ exuded.

“Alrighty, Champ! You’ve done great today! Just keep practicing the stretches here, and by the time I’ll be back in a few days, you’ll be feeling a lot better! I know that these sorts of injuries can be a bit tricky to bounce back from, but you’re doing so well already! I can tell you’re gonna be a fighter!”

Dib sighed, taking the piece of paper and placing it beside him. “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks for coming.”

“No worries.” He beamed. “I’m surprised your care team didn’t have you set up with physio as soon as you left the ward. Normally these sorts of arrangements are made very early on.”

“Yeah, I… I guess I don’t have the most typical of care teams. But it’s fine. I’ll see you on Friday?”

“See you then, Dib. Take care of yourself. Is there anyone home with you?”

“Oh, my sister will be back from school at 3.” He shrugged, getting up from his spot.

“Dib… at this point, I don’t think it’s wise for you to be-“

“I know, I know. But my Dad’s really busy, and I’m not going to make my sister miss any more school. She missed enough while I was in the hospital. And I’m  _ not  _ going to school.”

“I didn’t say you should go to school. You’re still in recovery, Dib. School is something we can look at in a little while, but it’s not the immediate goal.” Derek looked the boy up and down. “Do I need to explain to your father the importance of a full recovery?”

“Don’t bother.” Dib let out a dry laugh. “He’s got his own timeline. It’s fine, Derek. I’ll be okay. Thank you, again.”

————

“Okay, Son. Lift for me.”

The first amount of time that Dib had spent with his father since the incident, and of  _ course  _ it was because his father needed him to come and check the fitting of his new prosthesis prototype.

Dib gently lifted his stump up to the bright lights of the lab, and Membrane tried to be gentle as he fitted the piece of metal to his son. Of course, with metal hands, there was only so gentle you could be, and Dib winced slightly, shuffling in his chair.

“This is truly a feat of engineering, Son.” Membrane informed. “Based on my own prototypes, but without any of the weaponry. It should be lighter, and once I get the programming finished, it should have perfect fluid movements. Like you never lost your arm at all!”

“It’s  _ tight _ .” Dib mumbled. “Didn’t the doctors say I still needed heaps more healing before this was an option?”

“Eh. This shouldn’t affect healing. We just need to check the fit. And  _ yes,  _ it’s going to be tight. You said that you weren’t willing to undergo surgical adjustments, and therefore, it needs to be tight to ensure that it won’t fall off.” Membrane scolded.

“I don’t think I’m crazy for not wanting  _ surgery.  _ I never even  _ wanted  _ a prosethic arm. You started building me one before I told you anything. It’s  _ claustrophobic.  _ It’s too tight and it’s not  _ mine. _ ”

“It will be once I turn the touch sensors on.” Membrane told him sternly. “It’s for the best, son. You’ll be able to return to your academics, and possibly perform even better. I thought the same when I lost my arms, but once I had the ability to push the human form to new heights, my whole world opened up! Relax, Son. This will help you.”

_ My ass it will.  _ Dib thought.

The contraption was uncomfortable. On top of the tight suction that was sending pain through scars that were still healing, there was a harness that went around his right arm and held it firmly to his shoulder. It had two buckles that needed to be done up, pretty much confirming that Dib would never be able to put it on and take it off independently, especially considering the clasp at the back.

The final piece was a clip that went behind his left ear, and Membrane stepped back to admire his prototype. “Alright. Let me know if you feel any head pain or any delusions.”

“Delusions!?”

Membrane turned it on.

The hunk of metal sitting where his left arm used to be immediately sprung to life, and Dib’s eyes widened. It was… strange. Floaty. He could… lift it? Was this mind controlled? He tried to turn the wrist over and look at the back of the hand, when the prototype jerked up and froze.

Membrane sighed, walking over and gently pressing on some pieces, before gesturing to his colleagues to turn it back off. “This is why you  _ wait  _ for my instruction, Dib. I’ll have to fix it.”

“J-Just get it off me.” Dib muttered. “The s-strap is too tight and I-I-”

“Well, son. You should have thought about that before playing with my laser knife prototype.”

\----

Dib may have bargained an extra week off of school for his ‘recovery’, but the mounting academic pressure from his father and associates at the lab had him back at school the week after.

Gaz, once again armed with her father’s credit card, went out and bought her brother a satchel bag to help him carry his books around. He’d tried to tell her he didn’t need it, but then remembered the two-handed opening system on the briefcase, and reluctantly accepted.

Professor Membrane had offered to make him a simpler prosthetic to wear back to school, but Dib assured him that he would be fine and he would wait until the ‘proper’ one was finished. He didn’t know how to explain to the man that he didn’t want one at  _ all _ , but considering how much time the lab was putting in to build it for him… he resigned to his fate.

If it was going to be as good as his Dad said it would, then hopefully it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He could do without the harness, though. He’d always been on the claustrophobic side, and wearing the thing just  _ felt  _ like an invasion.

“You’re okay?” Gaz asked, walking beside her brother as they approached the school building. “Anyone gives you a hard time, and I’m gonna  _ beat  _ their ass. Okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Dib breathed. “Don’t… beat anyone. There’s rumours. People are gonna… stare. I’m gonna be fine.”

This was in direct contradiction to the heart palpitations that Dib was currently experiencing, and the trembling of his right hand. Gaz sighed, pulling her brother to the side just before the entrance to the school building.

“Look, if you’re not  _ ready  _ for this, go  _ home _ .” She brushed some hair off his face. “I’ll sort out the shit with Dad. I know he’s kind of a dick at the moment, but you need to recover. This is a  _ lot _ . There’s nothing Dad can do to you if you don’t go.”

“It’s  _ fine,  _ Gaz-”

“What did he  _ say _ to you?” She pushed.

“ _ Nothing- _ ”

“Dib, stop  _ lying  _ to me.”

He sighed. “Just the usual shit, okay?! Y’know, study hard, make him proud, use my brilliant brain, all that bullshit. The science showcase thing is in a few months, and he needs me to win that for some reason. I don’t know. It’s all his stupid expectations, although apparently this is going to be a college thing that I need to do. It’s  _ fine,  _ Gaz. I’ll get it over with, make him happy, and then I can keep doing my own shit without criticism. Okay?”

She sighed softly. “Okay. If you… okay. Leave at any time though, alright? I’ll cover for you.”

“You’re in the grade  _ below  _ me.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” She joked, poking him in the side as they headed back to the school building. 

Taking a deep breath, Dib stepped inside. He tried to keep his head down, focusing on walking in a straight line, blending in with the crowds. He wasn’t wearing his signature trenchcoat today, instead opting for a navy-blue sweater he’d found in the back of his closet. It was warm enough, and Dib hoped it would help him not stick out as much as he usually did.

He seemed to forget about his obnoxiously stupid hairstyle.

“Membrane! You’re back!” Poonchy, a classmate who Dib had known for years, wandered towards him in the hall. Dib recalled in middle school thinking that this kid would never grow up to be anything. So far, at age 15, Poonchy had grown to be about 6 feet 4 inches, and captain of the basketball team.

He was big, and strong, and he knew it. Dib wouldn’t describe him as a bully, because of course, once you get to high school, those words become ‘meaningless’ and everyone is meant to be mature enough to respect each other. In some ways, that was true. Other kids didn’t mess with his stuff anymore or outright call him crazy, but there was definitely some malice in their words whenever they spoke to him.

“Hey, Poonchy.” He mumbled, reluctantly glancing up at him.

“Oh, the rumours are… true then.” Poonchy stared at the empty sleeve of his sweater. “I… shit, man. You’re okay though, right?”

“Yeah, it’s healed.” Dib muttered, trying to figure out how he was going to get away from this situation. People were starting to stare.

“No, like,  _ you.  _ The news said that Membrane Labs was being investigated for it’s safety standards because a  _ mentally ill child managed to self-harm with a prototype. _ ”

“That’s not… that’s….” Dib sucked a breath in. “Poonchy, I’m  _ fine. _ ”

“Okay, man. Just checking. My Dad’s a psychiatrist, maybe he could look you over?” The boy smirked.

Dib pushed past him, picking up speed to try and get away from the situation. He could hide in the bathroom until the bell rang, right? He could risk a detention for running in the halls, because right now there were tears pricking the back of his eyelids and he could  _ not  _ show this to anyone.

He hadn’t been the best at tying his shoes this morning, having given up before the double knot. It was only a matter of time, and soon enough, htey were his downfall, bringing him crashing down to the ground, failing to put an arm out to soften the blow.

“Dib?” It was Zita’s voice, and she glanced down at her classmate on the floor. “Are you… okay?”

“Fine.” He mumbled, desperately trying to get up.

“Here.” She bent down and picked up his glasses (which now bore a large crack in the right lense). “Do you need a hand getting up?”

“Of course he needs a  _ hand _ !” Poonchy’s taunting tone rang in the distance, and Dib needed out of here.  _ Now. _

“Leave him alone.” Zita chuckled softly, taking Dib’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “He’s just teasing, Dib. Don’t take it seriously.”

“Yep.” Dib muttered. “Not seriously at all.”

He hid in his favourite bathroom stall until the day was over, and the home time bell rang through the building.

———

“It’s only a few sessions…. just to please your treatment team.. and then you’ll be fine. Back at school and making me proud. It won’t take long.”

Dib tried to ignore his father’s words as Professor Membrane drove them both to the medical centre where Dib was meant to be receiving a psychiatric evaluation and ‘ongoing support’. Neither were fond of the idea, but neither dared to argue.

The waiting room was uncomfortable. It was a large building, with many therapists, and Dib played with the knee holes in his jeans while watching a child attempt to stick crayons up it’s nose.

“Dib Membrane?”

“Go on, Son. I’ll be here.” Professor Membrane nudged him, pulling a laptop out to continue to work in the waiting room.

Slightly annoyed by that, Dib reluctantly followed the white coat down the hall to an office. It was nicely furnished, with a big lounge, and he took a seat right in the middle of it.

“Alright, Dib. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Dr Kramer, but you can call me Joseph, if you’d prefer. I suppose you know why we’re meeting?”

“Enlighten-” Dib froze as he looked up at the doctor. That familiar orange hair... 

“Are you okay, Dib?” He chuckled softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I-I-... do you have a son?” He stammered.

“Ah. ‘The hair. I’m guessing you go to school with my Poonchy?”

Dib’s blood went cold. “Y-Yeah.”

“Okay. No need to stress, Dib. All of these sessions are bound by patient confidentiality. Nobody except you and I will ever know what we talk about here, except in the rare exemption where you may be putting youself or others at risk. And even in that situation, Poonchy will never hear of anything. You have my word.” Dr Kramer explained.

“I… fine.” Dib sighed, slouching in his chair. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

The doctor breezed over this statement. “Now, Dib. You don’t strike me as the kind to want to start our sessions with copious amounts of small talk, and your father tells me you’re quite the smart kid, so I’m thinking it might be-”

“Smart kid,  _ sure.  _ Of  _ course  _ he told you. What else did he tell you about me? That I’m gonna take over the labs one day? A spitting image of him? The intelligence of a  _ thousand  _ little boys?!” He tightened his fist.

“Ah, yes, actually.” The doctor laughed slightly. “But that seems to bother you. Do you want to explain why?”

“He thinks I’m  _ him _ !” Dib exclaimed, throwing his arm in the air. “See, see, because apparently I’m some sort of ‘clone’ of him, he just assumes that I am literally the same person he was when he was my age. But I’m really not! He doesn’t want to learn anything about me, he doesn’t respect me as an individual, and it’s driving me INSANE!” 

The doctor nodded at the outburst, making some notes and asking some follow up questions. Dib angrily recounted his father’s attitudes towards him since even before the incident, and rambled on about his frustrations at the man. By the time the hour was up, they hadn’t even  _ gotten  _ to talking about Zim. Or his arm, for that matter.

“It seems we have a lot to talk about. I’ll see you later this week.” The doctor stood up to walk him out. ‘Take care of yourself, Dib.”

\---------

Dib had been so preoccupied with dealing with his shitty father and shitty school that he’d forgotten all about Zim.

The High School that the two attended was no longer a single building, instead several split up over a large campus. It had been a miserable day so far for Dib, being his first ‘proper’ day back. He’d been dealing with patronising glares and snide remarks, and was just praying for the day to finish soon. It was a miserable day for Zim as well, mostly because it was raining.

And that’s where Dib encountered him, standing next to the door and staring at the building he’d have to walk through the rain to get to. Where their next class was.

Zim noticed Dib fumbling with the umbrella that Gaz had made him bring this morning. It didn’t have a mechanical handle, and for the life of him, he couldn’t get it open. The green boy hesitantly approached him. “Erm… human?”

Dib jumped. “What the fuck do  _ you  _ want?!”

He hesitantly pointed at the umbrella. “If Zim helps you with that.... Will you share it with Zim on the way to class?”

“Jesus, you chop my arm off and then  _ want  _ something from me. Jesus.” Dib mocked him, but was painfully aware he was handing the umbrella over so Zim could open it.

Zim sighed, popping it up and holding it over the both of them as they stepped out into the rain. “I didn’t mean to  _ hurt  _ you, Dib-Stink.”

“Is that the best apology you can do?”

“You seem to be… doing better?”

“Fuck off, Zim. I don’t want your sympathy.” Dib growled as they stepped back into a dry area. “Just hurry up and end this planet fast. Preferably before I have to see that fucking therpist again.”

He stormed away, leaving the umbrella in Zim’s possession. 

The ikren sighed, placing it on the stand and burying his hands in his pockets. Sure, the Dib was his mortal enemy, but the thing with mortal enemies was that they never gave up. He’d seen the boy slowly breaking over the years as his father’s wishes eroded on him, but this… this was a final straw. He was unrecognisable, and not because he was missing a limb. His core essence had dissapated, and for some reason, it was Zim who felt lost.

_ Eugh.  _ God, he hated these fickle human emotions.


	3. The New Normal

“We spoke a lot about your father last session, Dib, but this session I just want to talk about you. And your arm.” Dr Kramer said, welcoming the boy back into his office. “I understand it may be a difficult conversation, but I do think it’s something we need to address.”

Dib groaned as he sat down. “Really?”

“You knew it was coming.” He reasoned with a smile. “But this will be helpful for the both of us in moving forward with your treatment. I want you to feel better, Dib.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy is an outdated word, Dib. Your experiences don’t make you ‘crazy’. They give us a starting point to get you on the road to recovery.” He attempted to reassure. “Here. Let’s start back at the day that it happened. What happened that morning?”

“In the morning?” Dib paused to think. “I… woke up, had some breakfast. Gaz got mad at me for eating all the Count Chocula’s again. I mean, she keeps a spare box in her room, so I don’t understand why she was so upset, but anyway. I think I had coffee? Maybe? I’m not sure. I’d been up all night trying to figure out what Zim was doing on the computer feeds.”

“Okay. Who’s Zim?”

Dib froze. “Uh… he’s an alien that goes to my school?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “An Alien?”

“Long story.” Dib muttered, flopping back into the couch. “But like, I have these cameras set up around his base so I can see if he’s doing anything suspicious. And there were these strange red glows coming from the window, so I spent most of the night trying to figure out what it was.”

Dr Kramer scrawled some notes.“Okay. And what happened after you talked to Gaz?”

“Um, I went to school? We were gonna have a normal school day, but then my technology class suddenly got told we were going on a field trip to Membrane Labs.”

“Membrane Labs. Was that exciting or nerve-wracking for you, Dib?”

“Eh. I was more worried about what Zim was gonna do. I figured that this was one of his schemes. After all, after the whole Room with A Moose incident, then I’m always skeptical of random field trips.”

“Room with a Moose?”

“Don’t worry about it. But yeah, we got on the bus, and we actually ended up at the labs, which was weird. There was a tour guide showing the class around, but Zim had vanished with his weird dog, and because it’s my Dad’s work and I’ve been there loads, I know my way around. So I split from the class to go find him.”

“Were you worried about him?”

“More worried about what he was going to do.” Dib picked at the holes in his jeans. “Because he’s, like, he’s an invader. He’s been trying to take over Earth for  _ years _ . Mostly he’s pretty bad at it. But I’ve stopped him so many times. The world doesn’t  _ know  _ because they don’t believe me, but we’d all be slaves to the Irken Armada by now if it wasn’t for me.”

“Right. And do you find a lot of satisfaction in that, Dib?”

“Well, I think so? I’d get a lot more out of it if people believed me and respected me for it. They will once I get them the proof they want, and manage to lock Zim up in a containment tank and put him on display, but anyway. He had Dad’s laser knife thing, and I fought him for it, because who  _ knows  _ what he’s going to do with stuff like that?”

“And you got it?”

Dib shook his head. “He sliced my arm off.”

Dr Kramer placed his pen on the paper, and glanced up to make eye contact. “ _ The alien _ sliced your arm off?”

“I  _ told  _ you that you’d think I was crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He responded, and Dib didn’t believe a word of it. “What happened next?”

“I started bleeding, started screaming. Zim fled. Dropped the knife. I think I passed out, next thing I know I’m in the medical wing.” Dib sighed, looking down at his lap. 

“Right.” He twisted his hand to look at his watch. “Okay. Listen, Dib, how would you feel about perhaps going on some medication?”

“What?!”

“Nothing today. Just something to consider for the future. It might help stablise your mood, help you feel a little better. I won’t prescribe you with anything too strong.”

Dib bit his lip. Surely it couldn’t be that bad? It might shut his father up. “Um… maybe? I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, I think that’s something we can look at next week. But for now, I just want you to focus on taking care of yourself and getting back on top of your schoolwork. Okay?”

“Okay.” He muttered, getting to his feet. At least he was out of here for another week.

\-------

“Okay, Son. Lift?”

The arm that his father had been building for the past six weeks was finally finished, and Dib was once again sitting in Membrane labs with his eyes clenched closed.

This was meant to be the finished version. He was meant to wear this  _ every single day  _ for the rest of his life. But this thing was so  _ tight.  _ Dib had always been slightly claustrophobic, but the tight harness that fastened over his shoulder and below his right arm felt like it was *strangling* him. The ear thing too, made it all the much worse. He clenched his eyes closed, focusing on breathing while the strap put pressure on his chest.

“Okay, that should be it. It’s waterproof, dust proof, and generates it’s own energy, so you should only need to take it off about once a month to let your body ‘breathe’, so to speak. I hardly ever take my own off anymore, not even to sleep! It becomes a part of you.” Membrane informed, his voice flat and scientific. 

“C-Can I take it off to sleep?”

“Well, it has a complicated system to hold in in place. As long as I am home to take it off and put it on for you, that shouldn’t be a problem.” He responded flatly, knowing he was hardly home during the week, instead sleeping at the labs. “The ear piece can hold a week’s charge. You can take it off while you’re sleeping if you wish.” 

“Okay.” Dib reluctantly put it on. “Tell me when it’s on.”

“It’s got perpetual energy, son. It’s always on. Go ahead. Give it a try.”

Reluctantly, he lifted it up off the side of the chair, his hazel eyes widening behind his glasses. It was true. Despite the prosthetic being made of cold metals that looked  _ very  _ heavy, it felt as weightless as his old arm. He lifted it, gently turning the wrist over and looking at the hands side-by-side in his lap. One was very clearly real, and the other was very clearly not. But despite the obvious difference, when he closed his eyes and ran both hands along the fabric of his jeans, the sensation coming from both was identical.

It felt exactly the same. As if he’d never lost his arm at all.

The professor stood tall, and Dib assumed he was smiling proudly, but he could never tell with his father. It didn’t really matter, anyway. That man would never be proud of him. He was showing more pride for a piece of technology that he’d built in a few weeks than he’d shown for his son in his entire 15 years of existing.

“Alright. All done.” Membrane walked away. “I’ll see you for family dinner on Saturday night.”

“T-thanks.” Dib mumbled, getting up to leave through the front entrance.

\-------

It felt good to be back at school in his black trenchcoat. It was a part of him at this point, a signature fashion staple. It’s pockets held everything he needed for an emergency alien battle, and the weight of it had become a comfort that he felt naked without. The robotic arm filled it out in the same way his old one did, and he was actually feeling okay about it.

The tightening across his chest was still present with every breath he took, but that was okay. It wasn’t so bad, as long as he was focusing on something else, like his classwork. The night before, when his father hadn’t been home to help take it off, and Gaz was already asleep, it had been a nightmare. In total, he’d probably only slept about two hours, but a dab of his sister’s concealer helped that.

He was expecting  _ some  _ sort of reaction to the arm, but wasn’t sure what it was going to be. Either way, he’d been avoiding Poonchy and his friends in the hall all morning. He was sitting in his homeroom class, reading over his chemistry assignment, when Brian, a boy who usually sat next to him, peered over at him.

“Woah! New arm?”

Dib jumped slightly, the shock of someone actually wanting to talk to him. “Um… yeah?”

“That’s so cool! Can I see?” He wandered over to Dib’s desk, marveling at the hand. “That’s  _ awesome. _ ”

“Um. yeah. My Dad built it.” He reluctantly pulled his coat up slightly to show more of the wrist. “It’s cool, I guess.”

“God, I wish my Dad could built stuff like this.” He breathed, truly impressed. “Is it mind controlled?”

“I think… so?” Dib pulled the earpiece off, watching the arm fall limp, and jump back to life as he put it back. “It just feels like my other arm.”

“That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you. Glad something’s finally going your way. Just don’t go all Terminator on us, right?”

“W-What?”

“ _ Kidding. _ ” Brian slapped his shoulder. “Your new arm is cool.”

Some other students were also now looking over, taking an interest in the new piece of technology. Dib reluctantly allowed them to see, most of them very impressed and marveling at how cool it was. There were a lot of murmurs of ‘you’re so lucky to have a Dad like that!’ and ‘I wish  _ my  _ Dad was a famous scientist’, and Dib gritted his teeth.

Zim wandered over once the bell had rang, and Dib was still packing his papers up. He tapped the metal with his gloved hands, and then snorted. “Primitive human technology.”

“Yeah, well,  _ our  _ arms don’t grow back, and this is the best we can do.” Dib growled at him. “Don’t touch it.”

“I know, I know.” Zim breezed over the hostility. “It suits you, Dib-Thing. I’m, err, glad your father managed to create it for you.”

“You don’t know shit about my Dad, and you don’t know shit about this. Back off, Zim. I don’t know, but whatever the fuck we had before, we  _ don’t  _ have now.” Dib got to his feet. “I don’t  _ ever  _ want to talk to you again. Got it?!”

“That sort of thing would be  _ impossible  _ for you, Dib-Stink.” Zim responded slyly. “You’re still obsessed with me. I know you are. And now you’ve got your arm back, you’re more prepared then ever to take on the threat of the Irken Armada. Of course, you’ll never succeed against the ALMIGHTY ZIM! But, perhaps you’ll find some stupid human entertainment in trying?”

“Since when do  _ you  _ care about my  _ stupid human entertainment _ ?” Dib countered, frowning. “What are you  _ up  _ to?”

Zim smiled back, his zippered teeth as unnerving as ever. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

\--------

For the first time since the incident, Dib sat down at his desk to flick through the camera feeds that he had on Zim’s base.

It had been a good while. He had to blow all the dust off his keyboard, and then re-arrange his setup so it was more comfortable for him. It weirded him out slightly how easily typing came back to him with his prosthetic hand, but he tried not to dwell on it. This was his new normal, and it as long as he kept ignoring the discomfort, he’d adjust soon enough.

The base looked the same, from the outside. The same strange green paint, the same giant satellite dish on the top, and the same terrifying laser gnomes there, who really liked to shoot at Dib whenever he approached. He still had the burn scars to prove it. Flicking through the camera feeds, he checked the other sides of the house. Nothing out of place there, either. But Dib had been doing this long enough to know that looks can be deceiving.

Dib would probably give his other arm to have a camera feed in the underground base, but unfortunately he didn’t have anything down there. He did have a camera in the kitchen, however, making notes of the times when Zim went down and came back up to the surface. On average, he went down to the base 3 times a day, more on days when there wasn’t school.

Dib wondered if the irken slept. There was no bedroom in the upstairs base as far as Dib could tell, but he did go down every night around 11, only to resurface the next morning.

Hmm. He’d have to dig out his old Zim evidence notebooks. Maybe his therapist would like to see them. It might bring him around to Dib's side. One notebook on it’s own wasn’t enough proof for most, but if he combined all 7 that he’d been working on over the past few years… maybe?

He shook his head. Dib had a  _ mission  _ to do here, and he continued studying the camera feeds, refusing to be distracted. Eventually, he caught something on the one stationed outside the living room window. His heart started to race as he leaned in close to the screen.

“Terrible work on the containment chambers, GIR! The-”

“OW!” Dib surprised himself with his own voice, a sharp pain shooting through his left shoulder. It started to sting, badly, and when he reached over to touch it, the area had gone numb. What on earth? Had his prosthetic malfunctioned and zapped him or something?! He’d have to talk to Dad about that, that wasn’t normal… 

Turning away from his desk, he went to get up to go to the bathroom and inspect the area, but as soon as he got to his feet, the world started to spin and more pain shot up into his head. Dib frantically put a hand on his forehead, before his legs crumbled and he fell to the floor. What on earth was happening…? He felt so strange, the world closing in as the drowsiness started to take over. He reached for a bookshelf to use as leverage, but there was no strength left for him to get up, and his energy was dissipating too. He rested his head back on the carpet, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there when he heard Gaz approaching. “DIB! I’ve been calling you for like 10 minutes! Dad’s gonna be late home tonight so I heated up some-” He paused as she opened his door. “SHIT! Dib! Are you okay?! Did you fall?”

“M-Mmm.” Dib mumbled. “I-I think?”

“Jesus.” She rushed to his side, helping him onto his feet, but still holding most of his weight. “What on earth did you  _ do,  _ Dib?”

“N-Nothing!” He responded woozily. “I, arm, a-and, pain, a-and I feel  _ weird _ !”

“Your arm?” She prodded at the metal, which was unresponsive. “Alright. Um… let’s get you downstairs and I’ll call Dad. We’ll figure out whatever the fuck’s going on. You okay?”

He gave a nod, clinging to her tightly as she helped him downstairs.

Gaz made her brother some SuperToast, placing it in front of him as he laid face-down on the table. “C’mon. Eat something.”

“'Mm  _ tired. _ ” Dib mumbled into the tablecloth.

“I know.” She breathed, pulling her phone out. “Let me talk to Dad.”

Calling Professor Membrane was hit or miss. Sometimes, he’d answer straight away. Most times, his assistant would answer the phone and he’d call back a few hours later. Thankfully, tonight, she didn’t have to wait around with her brother being… whatever he was being.

“Daughter!”

“Dad, there’s something  _ wrong  _ with Dib.”

“Oh, I know.” He chortled. “Don’t worry. It’s harmless. In order to prevent any more, erm,  _ accidents,  _ his prosthesis is programmed to inject him with a mild sedative when his heart rate reaches an raised level without physical exertion. It’s simply to help him! The effects will only last an hour.”

“WHAT?!” Gaz almost screamed into the phone, and even Dib managed to lift his head up to see what was going on.

“Honey, his doctor recommended he be medicated-”

“Medicated!? Yeah, not  _ sedated _ ! Whatever you’ve given him, it’s like, he can’t  _ stand _ , Dad! That’s so disgusting! You can’t  _ play  _ with him! He’s an actual person, okay?! DId you ask  _ any  _ doctors before making that choice?!”

“ _ Daughter _ , none of that is important-”

“Yes, it is! It’s fine if you don’t wanna be here, but you can’t do stuff like this to him! God, it’s so unethical it HURTS!”

“W-What’s going on?” Dib asked quietly.

Membrane sighed. “I’ll be home at 10. Just let him watch you play video games or something. He’ll be  _ fine. _ ”

“This better not happen again.” She growled, hanging up the phone.

“Gaz?” Dib repeated, trying to lift his head again only for it to fall back to the table.

“It’s fine.” She muttered. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? “Just a slight malfunction. It should clear up in about an hour. Do you wanna come watch some TV or something? I’ll put on Mysterious Mysteries if you want.”

“I’m too  _ old  _ for that.” He chuckled, letting his sister help him over to the lounge.

“And you still love it.” She placed a pillow on his shoulder to hold his head up. “Dad will be home later tonight.”

“Okay.” Dib yawned slightly, as Gaz sat beside him to put the show on. “Thank you, for… this.”

“Hey, what are sisters for?” She ruffled his hair. “I’ve got your back.”

As Dib fell asleep, he faintly remembered hearing those words before. He just couldn’t place where.


	4. At Least We Have Pizza

_ I’m going to get used to this. I’m going to get used to this. I’m going to get used to this. _

It was Dib’s lifeline at the moment, those words. Everyday life for him had become a gruelling, difficult, painful experience. He’d get up, fight the technology strapped to him (and he was pretty sure it was giving him blisters), fight the tight straps, fight the subtle remarks made about him at school, and now, he’d fight the weird dizzy spells he was having whenever he was thinking about Zim, or anything to do with the paranormal, really.

None had been quite as bad as the first one, but they hadn’t gone away. His father had brushed them off as ‘part of his craziness’, and nothing he needed to worry about. His sister just looked at him with sad eyes and took care of him until he felt better.

And even though he wasn’t so dizzy he could hardly stand up anymore, Dib was starting to wonder if he was ever going to feel better again.

The medication he’d been given by his therapist wasn’t helping either.

It was meant to help his ‘delusions’, apparently. Well, Dib wasn’t an idiot. As long as he kept shouting about aliens to his mental health team, they were going to think he was crazy until he proved them otherwise. Until then, while his father’s robotic screen watched, he had to keep taking these stupid pills.

They did nothing. Well, that was a lie. They did nothing  _ good _ . They were making him gain weight, and making him tired  _ all  _ the time. Getting up for school in the morning was proving to be one of the most difficult tasks of the day, and if he didn’t have some sort of panic attack/shock thing when he tried to look Zim up (Well, that’s what he  _ assumed  _ those dizzy spells were), then he’d be asleep by 8 o’clock most nights.

Gaz had mentioned a few times that she was a bit worried about him, but he promised her.  _ I’m going to get used to this. _

\----

“What’s this, Dib?”

“Five years of work.” Dib dropped the notebooks onto the coffee table in his therapist’s office. “I’m going to  _ prove  _ to you that Zim’s an alien, and then you can take me off this  _ stupid  _ medication.”

Dr Kramer raised an eyebrow. “Right. Alright, well, I guess this is something we can look at today then. Show me your work.”

“Thank you.” Dib tried to put on his very best  _ Dignified Paranormal Investigator  _ persona. “Uh…. let’s start at the beginning! So, this was the first book I made, um, when he started at my school when I was 11. You can see here, that was the first day he arrived. Notice how his eyes look  _ plasticy,  _ that’s because they’re contact lenses! And, that backpack he’s wearing is no backpack! He’s an  _ Irken,  _ and their race like, puts their  _ brains  _ in there! That’s why it’s glowing weird colours. There’s weapons in there, too! And these spider legs! And if we flip to  _ thiiiiisss  _ page, there’s a photo of them! It’s kinda blurry, um, my camera wasn’t very good back then, but you can see it, there! Do you see it?”

Dr Kramer smiled at his patient, taking the book from him and glancing over the photos. “Have you talked to Zim about what he thinks of this?”

“What?” Dib hissed. “He’s the ALIEN!”

“And what does he say when he tells you that?”

“He lies! He lies to protect his reputation to the class! He tells everyone he’s got a skin condition, but there’s no way that that makes a whole person  _ green _ ! And, and he’s got no ears! Plus the gloves he wears all the time! They hide his weird alien hands and stuff! And the clothes! They’re weird!”

“Okay. Let’s have a look from another perspective.” The doctor watched his patient’s face crumble into anger and disbelief, but stuck with it. “Pretend that you don’t know him. You’ve never met him. I know that you and Zim very clearly have a lot of history, but let’s… pretend this is a different person. Another student has just started at your school. They have green-ish skin, slightly yellow eyes, and a strange backpack. What would you think of them?”

“They’re an  _ alien. _ ” Dib muttered, folding his arms over his chest as he slumped back into the couch.

“Okay, let’s say they  _ only  _ had the slightly green skin and yellow-ish eyes. Would you say, if this was not Zim and you hadn’t observed  _ anything  _ else about them, that it’s  _ plausible  _ that they have a skin or medical condition that could cause those symptoms?”

Dib was silent for a moment, before clenching his hand into a fist. “I  _ guess. _ ”

“Okay! There we go. Now, sometimes, when people have some serious health conditions that affect their appearance, they need to carry their medical equipment with them at all times. Some have feeding tubes, or might be diabetic and need insulin, or various other things. If this  _ other  _ person had a backpack with them at all times as well, could  _ that  _ be plausible?”

“But Zim-”

“I’m not asking about Zim. Is it plausible?”

Dib gritted his teeth. “ _ Sure _ .”

Dr Kramer smiled at him. “Exactly. You see, Dib, your father has told me that you’ve been quite interested in the paranormal and aliens from a young age. And, of course, he wasn’t around a lot for you when you were younger. Would you agree that delving into your studies was a coping mechanism for you during this time?”

“I mean... “ Dib swallowed. “ _ Maybe _ ?”

“Well, what I think has happened here, is that with all your prior exposure to the subject, your brain has a bias to want to believe the theories that support your paranormal studies. And sometimes, those biases can be so strong that they overwhelm any reason or logic. Although it can feel very, very real, when we take a step back, we can examine it piece by piece and understand the whole picture a bit better.” The doctor looked his patient up and down, who still seemed very irritated by the discussion. “It’s a lot to understand, and it’s going to take a lot of time and practice, but I’m confident this will help you improve, Dib.”

Silence overtook the pair. Dr Kramer pushed his glasses up.

“No!” Dib stood up from the sofa, pacing back and forth. “I, this is stupid! Listen to me! I’m. Not. CRAZY! These notebooks, there’s  _ so  _ much proof here! I’ve got way more than what’s here! I can prove to you that Zim’s an alien! And so, so much more! So many photos and videos and things I pulled out of his trash, and, and, stuff that  _ science  _ can’t explain! You have to listen to-”

The boy’s eyes went wide, a sudden pain in his left shoulder starting to overtake him.

“Mee...uh…” Dib teetered on his feet slightly, and the doctor jumped up to steady him in alarm.

“Dib?” Dr Kramer helped the boy back to the couch. “Dib, are you okay?”

“Mmm.” He mumbled. “It’s...mmm… panic thing…”

Dr Kramer had been practicing psychiatry for a good 28 years now, and he  _ knew  _ that something wasn’t quite right. Keeping an eye on his patient, he quickly dialed reception, asking for Professor Membrane to be sent in.

Dib was lying back on the couch cushions, not having the strength to hold himself up, and was staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression on his face. This didn’t bother the professor in the slightest as he walked in, sitting beside him on the couch and sighing. “I supposed it might be true…”

Dr Kramer blinked. “Mr Membrane, I’m sorry, what’s your first name?”

“Professor.” He responded curtly.

“Right.” The doctor sighed softly. “Well,  _ Professor.  _ Can you please tell me what’s happened to your son?”

Dib, still completely spaced out, didn’t seem to register the conversation going on around him.

“Well, as a precautionary measurement to prevent him from any more limb damage, his prosthesis is programmed to deliver a fast-acting sedative to calm him down whenever his heart rate spikes in the absence of physical exertion.” He shrugged. “I get an alert on my phone.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

“If  _ your  _ son cut his own arm off,  _ you’d  _ be taking necessary precautions as well.” Membrane responded disapprovingly.

“Sir, you absolutely  _ cannot  _ sedate your child. I understand your anxiety, but you  _ cannot  _ take these sorts of matters into your own hands! How, where did you  _ get  _ a sedative this strong?!”

“You don’t need a prescription for veterinary medicine?”

“I can’t believe this.” Dr Kramer rubbed his eyes in disbelief. “This is going to have the opposite effect that you want it to on Dib. He needs supervision, treatment, and  _ appropriate  _ medication that he  _ consents  _ to. This sort of treatment borders on  _ cruel,  _ and if it happens  _ again,  _ I will be forced to report it to Child Protective Services.”

“What?!” Membrane launched out of his chair in anger. “How  _ dare  _ you?!”

“Sir, I am giving you a chance. Take it out. Prevent it from  _ ever  _ happening again.” Dr Kramer stood up, although not nearly as tall as the Professor. “I can’t work with Dib now that he’s sedated. I’ll see him on Friday. Do you understand?”

“Fine.” The Professor growled, grabbing Dib by the arm to drag him to the car.

\------

_ Get your brother from the car. _

Gaz stared at her phone, reluctantly pausing her game to read the message from her father. He seldom messaged her anymore, only responding when she’d send him updated grocery lists when they were running out of food.

_ What do you mean, get him from the car _ ?

_ He’s sitting in the car. Bring him inside. Emergency at the labs. _

With a groan, Gaz dropped her controller and shuffled outside. Sure enough, Dib was sitting in the front seat of her father’s car, staring out the front windscreen. She didn’t need to approach him to know what had happened, and quickly picked up her pace to go help him.

“Gaz?” He mumbled as she gently took his seatbelt off.

“Uh huh. He couldn’t even bring you inside, huh?! What an  _ asshole _ .” She growled in frustration, putting a hand under his arm to help him into the house. 

She sat him down on the living room floor, and Dib, at least, was starting to feel slightly more lucid, even if the whole world seemed to be some sort of dreamscape. Maybe this was one of Zim’s plans? Hmm. He rested his head back, watching his sister tinker around in the kitchen, before coming back with a bottle of water.

“Here.” She gently took the cap off. “Can you hold it?”

“Uh huh.” He took it, taking a few sips while she looked on with concern.

“Okay. You’re okay.” She breathed, kicking her feet out in front of her. “What the fuck happened at therapy?!”

Dib stared straight ahead, trying to get his thoughts to line up in some sort of order so he could verbalize them. “Um… I brought… my notebooks in…”

“With _ Dad, _ Dipshit.”

“Uh.” He paused, rubbing his eyes. “I… I was thinking about… Zim… and then I had another episode… and then Dad was there and then Dr Kramer seemed mad and Dad was mad and then we left.”

“O-kay, can you give me  _ any  _ more detail?”

Dib shrugged. “T-That’s all I remember.”

“Great.” She groaned, rolling her head back. “Okay. Well, look, let’s hope this is the  _ last  _ of the episodes, okay? Anyway, he’s a piece of shit. You wanna order some takeout and charge it to his credit card?”

“You still have it?”

“Of  _ course _ .” She grinned, pulling the piece of plastic out of her sock.

Dib lifted his head to smile at her, then groaned in pain and flopped back to the cushion. “Gaz?”

“Yeah?” She responded, not looking up from her phone.

“Do, do you know what’s going on with the episodes?” He asked, his words slurring slightly together. “Feels  _ weird. _ ”

“Dib…” Gaz bit her lip. “Yeah. Look, Dad’s… a piece of shit. He’s made this thing where, like, um…” She tried to find an easy way to explain it to her incredibly-drugged brother. “It’s medicine to calm you down. It detects when you get worked up.”

“Oh.”

“Look.” She got to her feet. “It’s bad, we all  _ know  _ how bad it is. But the good news is that your Doctor  _ hopefully  _ talked some sense into him and he can’t do it anymore. So that’s good!” She lightly brushed some hair off his face. “Now, what do you want on your pizza?”

\-----

The Membrane siblings didn’t see, nor hear from their father for a few days after that. Dib thought that  _ surely  _ he’d get a text or phone call or  _ something  _ when he missed school because the drugs hadn’t worn off, but apparently not. Just silence.

Gaz determined it was for the best. And besides, considering she had his credit card now, they weren’t reliant on him to do the groceries. And he forgot to do them half the time, anyway! He was one of the richest men in the world, right? He could afford the nightly takeout charges on his card until Gaz got to the store on the weekend.

The good news was, that there were no more sudden sedatives whenever DIb started thinking about Zim. Now, he just had to finish getting used to everything else.


End file.
